


don't want you to get it on (with nobody else but me)

by SexyCoinkiDicks



Series: It's Rather Like Being a Bloody Werewolf, Isn't It? [4]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alpha Dirk, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Guilt, Happy Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Office Blow Jobs, Omega Todd, Possessive Behavior, References to Knotting, Scenting, Self-Doubt, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 18:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14754212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SexyCoinkiDicks/pseuds/SexyCoinkiDicks
Summary: Dirk discovers a jealous streak in himself- and absolutely fails to hide it.Part of my Brotzly Omegaverse series- stories uploaded as I write them, mostly out of chronological order, but can all be read as stand-alone one-shots.





	don't want you to get it on (with nobody else but me)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, the non-explicit interlude didn't last long. There will be more variation in the ratings of this series in future, but I post things as the inspiration comes!
> 
> OC's are tagged because there needs to be _someone_ making moves for jealously to happen, but this is still established relationship Brotzly with a dash of new-relationship insecurity. 
> 
> Title from 'Ghengis Khan' by Miike Snow
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor do I profit from this work or any derivative works based upon them- I just like to play with them from time to time<3

Dirk doesn't think of himself as a jealous person. If he was he'd be a much more bitter one, surely, as his upbringing left him with lots to be envious of in other people's lives and little to have taken from him. Envy and jealousy were two things he hadn't the time nor propensity for.

 

And yet there's really no other word for the twist in his gut when  _ it _ happens.

 

The woman barely registered to him him at first. She was relatively plain, even by his admittedly ill-defined and unused definitions of female beauty, though if he'd taken a little more time he might have noticed the confidence in her gait, the sly twist of her lips, and the alpha musk that grew in intensity as she saw them.

 

No, not them. Just Todd.

 

And then suddenly she's  _ there,  _ inserted between them, leaning into Todd's space in a decidedly brazen manner, hand hovering at the small of his back as she asks in honey-sweet tones if she can buy him a drink. As she breathes down his neck, so close she could lean in and scent him in an instant, could press her lips to the back of his neck. 

 

Todd is aware of it too. He sees him stiffen, sees his eyes flick warily to her smirking lips and up, meeting her gaze in an act of defiance that's entirely non-omegan and entirely  _ Todd _ as he declares flatly that she can buy herself a drink and go fuck herself with the bottle.

 

He certainly doesn't beat about the bush.

 

The alpha looks him up and down once more, this time in annoyance and confusion, and obviously reaches the executive decision that he's not worth the effort because she swans off with her head held high, eyes roaming the bar for easier conquests.

 

Dirk watches her go, perturbed. “Does that- happen a lot?”

 

Todd snorts, signalling the bartender for another beer. “Yeah. Apparently I have some kinda ‘please pity fuck me’ vibe going on, they eat it up. Didn't you notice?”

 

Dirk had not, in fact, noticed. And he feels Todd is being just a _ tad _ hard on himself- Dirk can think of plenty of reasons to shag Todd and none of them are pity. He's alluring like that; he has the big blue eyes, soft hair, rugged (yet pretty) good looks, plus his mouth watering scent and his little habit of wandering round with his fair and frankly  _ biteable  _ neck on display.

 

But for some reason he'd lulled himself into a strange bubble of thinking those were his own unique observations.

 

It occurs to him then, as he casts his eyes around the room and deflects the gazes of a handful of other alphas in the process, that perhaps he's not as alone in his admiration as he thought.

 

He fidgets on his barstool, fighting the urge to drape himself over Todd's back like a human cape. He knows Todd can't stand that sort of thing, knows it might be the fastest way to get the same dismissive treatment as the brazen bar lady, but suddenly he  _ feels _ them. Acutely. The eyes on them, on  _ Todd,  _ smelling their mingled scents of sweat and sex, scanning their unmarked necks, drawing their own conclusions about what kind of relationship they have. About what kind of omega Todd is. Running their gazes up and down him appreciatively, imagining what the rest of him looks like beneath his clothes, how he would feel pinned beneath them, wrapped around them, how long they would have to keep him there to oust any last trace of Dirk's scent from his skin.

 

The thought stabs him in the gut almost as sharply as the glass stabs him in the hand.

 

“Dirk!” Todd exclaims, leaping from his seat, sending his stool toppling to the floor. “Jesus!”

 

Dirk looks down at his hand and the broken remains of his delicate cocktail glass in bemusement. “...Shit.”

 

He zones out a bit then, the sound of Todd's voice as he fusses over him and badgers the bartender for napkins and a first aid kit washing over him as he loses himself once more in his own musings. Well, that was strange. It wasn't the first time he'd broken a glass- it probably wasn't even in the first hundred, if you counted glasses broken on his reluctant behalf by rowdy psychic vampires. But it was usually a matter of clumsiness, a flailing wrist or a misplaced elbow. He'd certainly never squeezed one to extinction before. What a waste of a perfectly good Cosmopolitan. And a waste of perfectly good blood, too.

 

“Jesus,” he hears Todd muttering as he dabs hurriedly at the welling crimson. “What the fuck was that about?”

 

Dirk looks up at him. His eyebrows are doing the Concerned Scrunch, pretty blue eyes fixed on Dirk's injury as he carefully- yet somehow still grouchily- patches him up. The club lights bathe him in electric blue, dance across his flushed cheekbones, the inviting waves of his hair. On his plush bottom lip, chapped but pink and shining with moisture from where he's bitten down anxiously. On the smooth, fair skin of his neck, the tantalising stretch of tendon, the brief flash over his t-shirt of a porcelain collarbone. Pale, some might say sallow. Uncovered. Unmarked.

 

“I…” Dirk mumbles, stomach churning guiltily. “Haven't the faintest idea.”

 

* * *

 

Unsurprisingly, Dirk coped with the incident in much the same way he coped with anything unpleasant that he'd rather not think about. 

 

He didn't.

 

Well, that is to say he didn't  _ think _ about it, in an effort to cope. Which of course led to him not coping in the slightest, so it was a horrific miss on both counts.

 

For the following week he kept his head down in the street, deciding that if he didn't look he needn't be aware of how many alphas were giving Todd the eye. Of course, this meant pissing Todd off, given how many times he had to drag Dirk out of the path of oncoming traffic, but he convinced himself it was worth it. 

 

It was either that or  _ tell  _ Todd what he was feeling and honestly, in comparison, getting hit by a bus seemed favourable.

 

He caught Todd giving him weird looks all the time, which he ignored or grinned away as much as he could. He tried to be normal, goodness knows he tried, but it was hard. Hard to feel good about what they had when he felt guilty every time he so much as laid hands on the omega. When every touch, every look, every intercepted stare from an alpha in the street made a traitorous part of his brain latch its teeth onto Todd and growl  _ mine.  _ It was… it was crude. Demeaning. An instinct he'd never felt before- an instinct Todd would  _ despise. _

 

So he swatted the thoughts away like flies, pointedly ignoring the discontented grumbles of his brutish psyche and hoping it would, after a prolonged period of avoidance, simply go away.

 

And if in the meantime he approached his and Todd's sexual encounters with a touch more desperation than normal, well… that was really no one's business. 

 

A week to the day of the glass incident, and the strategy is still going strong. Dirk keeps his head down, keeps his complaints to himself as other alphas flirt shamelessly (and, thankfully, unsuccessfully) with Todd, and appeases that wolfish corner of his brain by making sure to suck a few hickeys onto Todd's lovely throat at the earliest opportunity. It's hardly an elegant or dignified solution, but anything that keeps Todd from hating his guts is a win in his book.

 

All the same, he practically collapses in relief when a client enters accompanied by the sickly sweet scent of omega. The amount of alpha clients they'd encountered recently wasn't doing anything to help his fragile state of mind.

 

He's so relieved that he falls into easy conversation with the client- a slender, coltish man with wavy blonde hair and freckles- within minutes. So happy to let his guard down for a moment that it doesn't even register to him when the man shifts his chair a little closer, or when he laughs brightly at every other thing Dirk says. So utterly  _ delighted _ to just be having a normal, non-strained human interaction that he doesn't even clock the hand on his knee right away. 

 

“Dirk.”

 

He looks up at Todd, and immediately feels his good mood fading. Todd's expression is stony, eyes not meeting Dirk's- mainly because, he realises belatedly, they're riveted on the point of contact between him and whatshisname. “Yes, Todd?” he asks, hoping he doesn't sound  _ too  _ strangled. 

 

Todd clenches his fists at his sides, and jerks his head towards the kitchen door. “Can we talk a second?”

 

Dirk nods, rising to his feet with an apologetic- and perhaps vaguely terrified- smile at the client. He follows Todd into the kitchen in silence, mentally listing all the ways Todd could be upset with him. All the ways he could have stumbled across the a secret Dirk had been keeping all week. He closes the door behind him as an afterthought, thinking that if this is when Hurricane Todd wreaks its destruction, they can at least minimise the risk of scaring off potential clients.

 

“Todd,” he begins, feeling the words bubbling up in his throat, ready to spill out in a formless mess of apology. “I'd just like to start by saying-”

 

Which is as far as he gets before Todd unceremoniously sticks his tongue down his throat.

 

He yelps a little in surprise, but his hands find Todd's waist automatically, clinging on even if they're not quite sure what they're doing there. He feels Todd licking into his mouth, sloppy and demanding, feels his fingers creep up to fist tightly in his hair. 

 

And suddenly he's pinned against the door, hard, cool wood at his back- and soft, lean muscle at his front as Todd molds himself to his chest, slipping a leg between his thighs.

 

When the pressing heat disappears, Dirk actually whimpers, suddenly feeling lost and confused when Todd takes his lips and chest and  _ everything  _ away. But then he feels Todd's hands on his hips, tracing circles before deftly unfastening his belt, his fly, unzipping him and reaching in to pull his cock- already half-hard- into the open air.

 

And then, with neither warning nor preamble, he's sinking to his knees, his hands are gripping Dirk's arse, and his mouth is swallowing his cock.

 

Dirk lets out a noise considerably louder than a whimper at that.

 

_ “Shit!”  _ he cries, head thumping back against the door as he finds himself suddenly buried in the hot, wet paradise of Todd's clever mouth. Two seconds into the most impromptu blowjob of his life and his heart's already pounding out of his ribcage. He feels around desperately for something,  _ anything  _ to hold onto, and finds himself with one hand braced on  the door, the other tangled in Todd's hair, rocking steadily back and forth as Todd bobs his head up and down, swallowing Dirk so deep he sees stars. 

 

Dirk can't keep his eyes away any longer. He looks down, catches sight of the fast, rhythmic bob of that head, of his own hand moving with it. Of Todd's lips, pink and spit-slick,  stretched around his cock, pulling back all the way to the head to do wicked things with his tongue on Dirk's slit, before sinking back down so deep his nose comes to rest at the base, nuzzling lightly into the coarse thatch of hair like it's his favourite place to be.

 

With his merciless pace and the entirely unfair way he hollows his cheeks around Dirk's cock, it's mere minutes before Dirk is crying out in warning, releasing his hold so Todd can retreat from his impending knot and the mess that follows.

 

And retreat Todd does, but not far. He releases Dirk's cock with a wet  _ pop _ , and instead nuzzles his face into it as Dirk reaches his crest, groaning wantonly as come splatters his cheek, dripping down across his lips, from his chin, painting him in Dirk's scent, his desire, saturating him in it.

 

Well,  _ fuck. _

 

Dirk fairly whines, writhing with over sensitivity as Todd squeezes his knot, massages it, draws his orgasm out across countless tantalising seconds, minutes. Maybe hours. God, Dirk hates time. Hates clocks and calendars telling him where he's supposed to be when he has a gorgeous, irresistible, bloody  _ insatiable _ omega at his feet to be wrapped around, wrapped  _ in _ , worshipping. An omega with the bluest eyes and the softest mouth and long, calloused fingers that play him like a fiddle. An omega with his come on his face, rubbing it in as he kisses and noses lightly along Dirk's length, mouthing at his swollen knot,teasing, promising, not seeming to care in the slightest about the sticky stains on his band t-shirt.

 

_ God,  _ this man will be the death of him.

 

And then, as quickly as it started, it's over, and Todd is standing up- but not before licking a stray fleck of come from Dirk's cock and then tucking it neatly, innocently back into his pants, buttoning his trousers over the slowly shrinking knot. He comes to face Dirk,  pressing up close, his own hardness digging pointedly into Dirk's hip as he leans in to scent his neck with the heady cocktail of his arousal as well as Dirk's own release, a sharp, unavoidable tang, rubbed into Dirk's flesh and blood with every pass of Todd's nose and cheek over his pulse point.

 

Dirk blinks at him, feeling suddenly very sluggish and sex-stupid. “What - what was that all about?”

 

He feels Todd hesitate a moment, fingers tightening on Dirk's hips as he.mumbles something unintelligible into his neck. “Sorry?” says Dirk, more lost than ever.

 

Todd sighs grumpily, dragging his teeth over Dirk's collar bone through his shirt. “He was all over you.”

 

“...Who?”

 

“ _ Him, _ ” Todd growls- actually  _ growls _ -, jerking his head towards the door. “Putting his hands on you. Scenting you.”

 

It takes Dirk a little while to wade through the post-coital fuzz and remember that they do, in fact, have have a customer on the other side off this door. “Oh, bugger-  _ Todd! _ ”

 

“Later, we need the cash,” Todd says easily, palming Dirk through his trousers and smiling into his neck as his knot twitches. “Go, get his statement or whatever.” He grinds into Dirk's pelvis, whining low in his throat as he drags his clothed, achingly hard cock over him. “And do it fast. We're not done yet.”

 

“Bossy,” Dirk chastises, a little too breathlessly to be effective. “Maybe I'll go back out there and have and nice long chat with…” Billy? Bobby? Basil? “...whatshisname.”

 

The suggestion is met by a small, punishing nip at his jaw and a firm squeeze of his knot, dragging a whimper from him as he bucks his hips and spurts his last, feeble dregs into his underwear. He feels Todd rub his thumb over the damp patch approvingly, feels him take Dirk's earlobe between his teeth and worry it slightly before releasing it. But he doesn't pull back, just whispers into Dirk's ear: “Now- you gonna stay out there ‘chatting’, or you gonna come back and fuck me against this door?”

 

“That one,” Dirk squeaks, nodding a little frantically. “Definitely that one.”

 

Todd hums in satisfaction, rewarding him with a kiss to his savaged jaw. “Be quick,” he murmurs, reaching down to palm himself through his jeans. “Or I'm gonna start without you.”

Now it's Dirk's turn to growl. He grabs Todd before he can think too much of it, hands splayed possessively across his arse as he hauls him in for a biting kiss that has the omega whining into his mouth, cursing his name and panting for breath as he rocks into his body like he's craving it. 

 

And somewhere, amidst all the other little jabs and encouragements and filthy nothings, Dirk swears he hears Todd's wrecked voice crack around a thick, desperate  _ ‘mine’. _

 

Maybe Dirk is a jealous person after all.

 

But, he muses as Todd sets about making his hair look as unsuitable for the workplace as possible, at least he's in good company.

 

**Author's Note:**

> They are both useless and deserve each other, frankly.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
